


Epilogue of Kings Rising - Picks up directly from end

by Mackenzie Blair (Sidney_Allison)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5897785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidney_Allison/pseuds/Mackenzie%20Blair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ending felt too abrupt for me and I had many questions, so I wrote this to try answer some of those logic bumps and give some happiness to our two men! </p><p>It picks up right where Book 3 ends, as the bells are tolling. And tells about the rest of the day and then three months later. I promise a happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epilogue of Kings Rising - Picks up directly from end

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Book 3 - Please read first. I apologize for any errors.

Picking up right where Kings Rising Ended

 -----------

As the bells finished heralding the new King, Laurent unlocked Damen’s wrist from the chain, worried that he was losing too much blood as it seeped onto the cold stone floor beneath them. It was not a mortal wound if the physician Paschal could be found. Laurent did not want to leave Damen’s side. His men might have control of the palace for the most part, but danger was still everywhere; the Akielos soldiers aligned with Kastor still needed to be routed and stamped out.

“We need Paschal,” Laurent murmured to Damen, weighing his options.

“The slave quarters,” Damen replied with a nod towards the corridor to his left. “Nikandros knows of this tunnel.”

Laurent nodded and gently lowered him to the ground, placing Damen’s knife within his easy reach. He hurried the few steps to the slave baths, realizing this had been the way Damen had been removed from his kingdom last. It was empty. He raced into the next corridor and found four slave men trying to blend into the shadows as the sounds of battle still echoed around them.

But the bells had tolled. They had a new King.

“Your King bids you to find Nikandros and the physician Paschal,” he commanded them.

They stared at him wide-eyed, halfway to their knees in prostration, wondering how to address the King of Vere. Wondering which King commanded them. But Laurent had no time for their confusion.

“Go,” he barked, and the slaves, training part of their existence, hurried away in action.

Laurent quickly retraced his steps, passing through the baths once more and grabbing a long swath of white cotton. He found Damen lying as he’d been left, his breathing shallow but steady. Laurent quickly applied pressure with the clean white material. It became crimson red quickly.

The two did not speak as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, the sound of footsteps as Nikandros burst down the stairs, terror upon his face, which did not abate when he saw Damen lying in a pool of blood. When his eyes lit upon the dead Kyros, his visage relaxed a bit.

“Paschal?” Laurent asked.

“He is coming,” Nikandros replied as he stepped over the fallen Kyros and spat upon him. “I did not know if you could,” he said to Damen as he knelt beside him.

Damen closed his eyes. “I did not.”

Nikandros met Laurent eyes and understood everything in that moment. He gave a nod of acknowledgement. “And so it is.”

Moments later, Jord led Paschal down the steps with his most trusted men behind him. Paschal knelt before Damen, quickly assessing the wound, taking clean pads dampened with medicine to press upon the knife’s entrance. “We must move him,” he said in a quiet voice.

Jord nodded to Pallas and Lydos and together with Nikandros, the four of them lifted their King. “Through the slave quarters,” Damen commanded. He did not want the soldiers of Vere or Akielos to see him as anything but strong and whole.

They quickly moved him through the back corridors, led silently by slaves along passages none of them had ever used, until Damen was in his old rooms. Laurent realized this as he entered. It had been left untouched, Kastor taking over the King’s rooms, the father he killed.

Paschal set to work immediately cleansing the wound and surveying the extent of the damage. “The wound did not breach his body cavity. It just cut his thick muscle,” Paschal announced with relief.

Laurent knelt beside Damen on the bed. “It is good you train so hard when you think no one is watching,” Laurent said with a wry smile. He felt the shock of the men around him and quickly schooled his expression. The Prince of Vere did not smile.

Except he was no longer the Prince.

He was King.

And although he did not want to leave Damen, he had King’s work to do.

He stood and motioned Nikandros off to the side. “The palace is secure?”            

“It is,” Nikandros replied. “My men and yours have control of Ios. Word has spread among the Regent’s men of his machinations at Marlas. That you are now the King of Vere.”

“And what of Kastor?” Laurent asked.

“All of Ios and the surrounding Kyros will know soon that Kastor killed his father not Damianos. I will send messengers to the Northern region and Vere as well.”

“Good,” Laurent said with a nod. “Harode and Vannes must be returned to my Court to deal with my Uncle’s sympathizers.”

He motioned over to Jord who came to his side immediately. “You will escort the Council home with an army of Vere and Akielos soldiers. Secure my Northern holdings.”

Jord nodded and set off to his task.

Laurent turned back to Nikandros. “Can Makedon be trusted to control the border?”

“He can,” said Nikandros. “So long as he rides under the Akielon banner still.”

Laurent gave a nod. “I shall deal with matters of State after we have secured our holdings. Although think whether you want Ios or Marlas.”

Nikandros looked up at him in surprise. “Vere is not taking back Marlas.”

“Vere and Akeilos will now be the same Empire. The North and the Southern Regions. Were not there not so much—history at Marlas—it would make a good Capital.”

Nikandros remained silent for long moments, taking this in. Finally, he gave a brisk nod. “Might I recommend Arles as the Court for the hot summers in the North, and Ios in the winters.

Laurent gave a bark of laughter. “You may.” Then he moved on to matters of strategy. “We need to ferret out and destroy Kastor’s men here. He is dead, but I do not want an uprising in his name.”

Nikandros nodded. “Pallas is ready.”

Laurent looked over at the soldier who had proven himself so well at the competitions. “He is loyal?”

“He told only me when he found you and Damen in bed together,” Nikandros replied pointedly. Laurent heard the unspoken rebuke.

“A pity. I wanted the men to know just how cold-blooded I could be.”

“Or did you want them to know the opposite?” Nikandros countered.

Laurent brushed away his statement. “Gather my Council and the Kyros of Akielon.”

Nikandros gave a deep bow and headed out.

Laurent wished he could stop for just a moment, but that was not an option. He could feel the abuse of the shackles on this body and the fight now seeping into his mental state as well as his physical one. Only years in the pursuit of vengeance had given him the strength to fight Kastor. And all that he had learned from watching Damen.

Still, he had had to take a risk with that feint to the left to end the battle quickly for he knew his body would not hold out. And indeed he wanted nothing more than to sink onto the bed beside his love.

But there would be time later for that. Now was not the time to rest.

He returned to Damen’s side. His eyes were closed. He looked to Paschal, worried.

“A draught for the pain. Let him sleep,” Paschal replied, carefully stitching closed the wound.

Laurent brushed aside Damen’s hair, then placed a kiss upon his forehead, unconcerned with those still observing them. Then Laurent moved swiftly out of the room to secure their Empire. 

* * *

Hours later, Laurent returned to Damen’s quarters. The two Kingdoms were too different to unite at once, but the border territories would be the beginning of Vere and Akeilos under one banner. It was not that either side was opposed to the Empire lost so long ago reinstated, but rather under which name it was to be called.

These were not matters to be decided today or without the King of Akielos.

Paschal still sat beside his wounded patient, but he stood as soon as he sensed Laurent’s presence. He joined Laurent by the recessed window. “We will watch for infection, but he should recover fully with time.”

Laurent nodded, examining the physician who had chosen to ride with him instead of the Regent. “Nicaise.” He simply said. The command was clear. He wanted answers.

Paschal nodded. “Govart returned to the Regent after being injured by you and cast out. Nicaise somehow learned of Govart’s leverage and sent it to me through a soldier. For which Nicaise was killed.”

“Which soldier?” Laurent asked.

“A young man. He was—one of the Regent’s boys before Nicaise. He was killed at Fontaine.”

“Why did you not speak up sooner?”

“I did not know what I had. Nicaise sent me a small, carved box he had once shown me. In it were tokens for his family. I thought that was all. I thought he knew he was going to be killed.”

“And you were to return these keepsakes to his family?”

Paschal nodded. “After Kingsmeet, on the way here, I rode with Guion and Loyse. I overheard them speak of Govart. Of his mysterious hold over the Regent. Of how Nicaise had been killed. I understood then. I recalled Nicaise saying the box had a hidden compartment. I found the letter Nicaise had hidden. But King Damianos had already left to turn himself in to Kastor in an effort to save you.”

“And at the trial?”

“I knew Loyse must speak first. When they did not believe her—” he looked away. “It is hard to betray one’s brother. To reveal his treason. A better man would not have hesitated.”

Laurent nodded. Paschal had served him for a long time; he could not believe the man would not bring him the information sooner if he had had it. And he knew all too well how it felt to learn that one’s own family had betrayed them.  

And then, to be but a physician facing down Kings.

“Thank you,” he said simply to Paschal’s surprise.

He watched the old man gather himself and nod. “I will leave you with King Damianos.”

As soon as he was gone, Laurent told the guards at the door they were not to be disturbed and then quickly unlaced the Vere garments he had procured before meeting with his Council. He slid into bed beside Damen.

“Are you an angel?” he heard Damen whisper.

Laurent wrapped his arms around his love. “Definitely not.”

* * *

_Three months later_

Damen descended the steps to the terrace that overlooked his mother’s garden of the summer palace outside Ios. The place he had promised Laurent they would visit as soon as the political situation was stable enough. It had been three months since the trial and although the peace was new and fragile between Vere and Akielos, it was peace.

Damen had spent much time on the border where their leaders, like Makedon, who had once been the greatest source of conflict between the two kingdoms, now seemed the most aligned under the new Empire. They had turned their mutual hatred towards Patras.

Damen supposed all soldiers needed an enemy to fight.

As Damen stepped down the last step, he saw a blonde head, his hair tousled in the wind at the far end of the terrace. It had been six weeks since last they’d been together.

Laurent had returned to his courts in Arles to manage affairs there while Damen dealt with his Ios. He wanted to lead differently than his father, but he knew it would be a slow process. His people had much healing to do before he could begin reforming the laws. But he had freed all the slaves in his household. Most had chosen to remain with him as servants. It was a start.

Laurent sensed his presence as he neared him and turned, a teasing smile on his lips, a young man in all his beauty leaning against the marble balustrade. Damen forgot to breathe.

“Your mother had excellent taste,” Laurent said, motioning out to the fountains and gardens below.

“She did,” Damen confirmed, wrapping his arms around Laurent’s waist, pulling him close, still shocked it was his privilege to do so. “Do you like it?”

“Indeed. As promised, it is not too warm,” Laurent teased as the wind from the ocean cooled them both.

“Were you to wear less clothes,” Damen hinted, pulling on the tie at Laurent’s neck, both loving and despising the Veretian’s severe clothing.

“I would strip, but I am not the shy one,” Laurent replied, his hand sliding down to cup Damen who was at the ready.

Damen groaned and pulled Laurent through the closest doors, dragging him to his private quarters. Laurent laughed and followed, unlacing his outer jacket as they went.

They had put Marlas behind them, now knowing they’d both been victims of the Regent’s plotting. At first, Laurent had not wanted to talk of his Uncle’s abuse, but Damen had chipped away at his resistance, assuring him that his love would be steady no matter the past. The night that Laurent had finally confessed the whole truth to him, how his Uncle had first come to his bedroom, Damen wanted to kill the Regent all over again, but slowly and tortuously. But for Laurent, it had been healing.

They reached Damen’s quarters, which were also to be Laurent’s, and he pulled Laurent in for a kiss that was sinful and perfect all at once. Laurent was no longer so unsure in his desires, but instead, thrust his tongue in, biting and nipping and owning.

They were naked and atop one another in moments. Laurent slid his hands down Damen’s back to his rear and squeezed. “I want to be inside you,” he whispered.

Damen stilled at his words. They had not spoken of this since the Inn with Charls. And yet he had been waiting, hoping. A first for both of them.

“Yes,” he breathed out, reaching for the oil by his bedside, passing it to Laurent. “I bathed this morning,” he offered, feeling his face flush in embarrassment.

Laurent pushed him to lay down his stomach, then turned his attention to Damen’s most private place. Spreading him open, his hot breath so near.

Damen reared up in shock when Laurent’s tongue touched him there.

Laurent gave a small chuckle. “Although I have not done much, I have seen many things in Vere.” And then he leaned down with his tongue once more for the sweetest torture Damen had ever known. When he thought he would go mad with want, for Laurent prepared him so slowly, his lover rolled him over.

“Please, you are killing me,” Damen begged, needing Laurent inside him.

Their eyes locked. “You gave me your heart, and I have promised to treat it tenderly,” Laurent replied before gently pushing inside.

Damen moaned. Laurent bit his lip in ecstasy. He gave Damen a moment to adjust, but Damen did not want it. He jerked his hips upwards and watched as Laurent lost all control, pushing into him hard and deep, then pulling out. Again and again.

The frantic need rose between them. Laurent reached his hand between their bodies to stroke Damen towards his release, holding back, waiting until Damen found his pleasure, and then when Damen cried out in completion, Laurent finally let go and followed him into blinding ecstasy.

Afterwards, they lay tangled in each other’s arms for long moments, before Laurent carefully slipped away for a wet cloth to clean them. Damen smiled at his meticulous lover as he returned to the bed.

“I have missed you,” Damen said simply.

“And I you,” Laurent replied, tossing the cloth aside and laying down on his side to watch Damen, slipping his thigh between his lover’s legs. “I have news.”

Damen raised his eyebrows in question.

“You are to be a father,” Laurent softly said.

“What?” Damen replied in confusion. Jokaste had said…

Laurent shook his head, knowing the line of Damen’s thoughts. “Three of the Vaskian women you bedded are with child. You proved to be quite virile.”

Damen laughed in surprise. He recalled the night that he had laid with those women then collapsed in the tent beside Laurent, wholly spent.

“Truly?” Daman asked.

“Truly,” Laurent replied. “They believe two are sons, and they are rarely wrong in these matters. But, fortunately for you, they do not raise sons.”

“They will send them to me?” Damen asked, hoping rising in his chest.

Laurent nodded. “I spoke with them about the daughter. If you will name her a princess, to rule alongside her brothers, they will consider sending her to you as well. It is a political move on their part, but one I did not think you would mind.”

Damen laughed with joy. Children. He was going to have children. With Laurent. “You are alright with this?” he asked his lover.

Laurent nodded. “I had resigned myself to you laying with women for the sake of your line, but I was not looking forward to it.”

“They will be bastards,” Damen pointed out. “Vere cannot abide bastards.”

“They will allow it if we marry for nature cannot be changed.”

“Marry?” Damen asked and watched as Laurent’s face became guarded. He quickly kissed Laurent sweetly. “I had just not thought of it,” he reassured. “Is it possible?”

Laurent smiled. “We are Kings. We make the laws.”

And it was true. Two thrones had often sat side by side in kingdoms, for the King and Queen, but why not two Kings. As it was already the way it would be, why not join in marriage.

“Three children,” Damen said with a smile. “We shall name the boys for your brother and father.”

Laurent looked at him with shining eyes. “And our daughter for your mother.”

Damen let out a laugh of pure joy. “She shall be spoiled rotten, commanding you about.”

“Me?” Laurent said, pushing back in protest. “You are the one who falls for beseeching eyes, forgiving to the point of madness.”

Damen shrugged. “It’s true. But I have you to protect me.”

“As I have you,” Laurent replied.


End file.
